


The Seduction of Susanna Barnett, Round 2 (Or, How Luisa Got Her Groove Back)

by Bluebluebaby



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Mentions of alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebluebaby/pseuds/Bluebluebaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From Tumblr:<br/>"I'm sure you're getting a slew of prompts now, but if you ever have some downtime, I'd love to see a fic of Luisa down the road feeling ready to win Susanna back and plan The Seduction of Susanna Barnett: Round 2. Curious what you think she may do differently this time? :D"</p><p>(Or: Luisa goes to rehab and decides to shape up and woo a goddamn lady. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Checking In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinggg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinggg/gifts).



> So, I ended up combining this prompt with some plot from the show- not sure how much of Luisa's recovery journey we'll see on-screen but here's my take on it.

Luisa Alver and her brother didn't have much in common. She was a free spirit, and he seemed to have a permanent stick up his ass. She wore her emotions on her sleeve and he would rather die than talk about his feelings. She loved the feeling of a flowy skirt and try though he may, he could never find a pair of pants as tight as he wanted.

They did however, share one dominant trait: a preternatural gift at picking up women.

In their younger years, they had even gone to bars and placed bets on the other’s conquests. (The feminist in Luisa is not proud of this behavior, but she did make a lot of money off of Raf, and she's nothing if not competitive). But now, Rafael was a father, and he could hardly stand to be in the same room as Luisa. He had traded in his playboy ways for pining after a woman who didn't love him, and Luisa had fallen off the wagon over a woman who might have loved her, but she had no way now of truly knowing.

Timing has never been Luisa's strong suit. Her marriage to Allison was essentially a bluff to try to persuade Rose to leave her father (until Rose had ignored her for three months and practically sat in Emilio’s lap during the ceremony. Luisa has always been an awful poker player). And just as Luisa had felt the possibility of something real with Susanna, Rose had gone and **_died_**. (At the hands of Rafael’s mother no less. There was no amount of therapy that could begin to chip away at that iceberg)

And the worst part is, Susanna is still _kind_ , and _sweet_ , and looks at her like she is _good_ despite the wreckage of bad decisions in Luisa’s wake. It makes the vodka sting that much more, but it doesn't stop her from retrieving the hidden bottle, as Susanna walks away from her.

_

Being somewhat of an expert on addiction, Luisa knew how to make women want her. She could tease them just enough to make them do all the work and come crawling to her. She could make them come so many times that her name replaced God's  on their lips. And she could get rid of them without a second thought the moment things got boring, or routine, or _real_.

Where Rose had been spontaneity and impulse, Allison had been stability, a sure thing, Luisa had thought (up until the moment she had walked in on her wife with her head between her assistant’s legs). Sure, they were both workaholics who treated sex as a test of endurance, not any sort of intimacy, but Allison kept her in line. She made sure she stayed sober, and showed up to family dinners on time, and so what if Luisa only kissed her to make Rose jealous- her father and brother treated the women in their lives much worse with no consequences. (One of Luisa's therapists points out that her own self-absorbedness may have driven Allison away, and while it’s true, Allison knew what she was getting into, and made sure she would get out with a lot after the divorce proceedings.)

Even in her marriage, Luisa had forged a web of lies.

“ _I'm working late.”_  
“Rose doesn't hate you, she's just jealous of how beautiful you are!”  
“Til death do us part.”  
_

Luisa was a shameless flirt for good reason- it had proven results. And seeing Detective Barnett so flustered was a small bright spot on the very shitty journey of learning more about her mother. She had been so focused on the challenge of seducing the detective that her feelings snuck in before she could stop them.

For as long as she could remember, everyone close to her had coddled her, lied for her protection (or for their own purposes).

“ _Your mother is dead.”_  
“You're sick! Delusional!”  
“Everything will be okay.”

So when Susanna had held her hand, and confessed, “ _a little_ ,” with that sweet sad smile, she had to kiss her. The honesty was so unexpected that there were no words.

_

The shock of someone being truthful with her gives way to that sinking discomfort of Luisa sitting with herself and her own emotions. It’s the discomfort that has driven her to drink when no one else was around, but Susanna is here, and ever so willing to engage in mutual distraction (and satisfaction). Luisa is a little surprised at how quickly Susanna meets her pace, but certainly not at all disappointed. She yields quickly to Luisa, letting her call the shots (letting her have some sort of control in the shitstorm that has become her life). It's two glorious weeks of shameless sexts and sweaty sheets and “ _Jesus **fuck** , Luisa, where in the world did you learn to do that?”_

Then, _Joey_.  
Then, _Donuts_.  
Then, “ _now is not the time.”_  
_

And yes, Susanna leaves her apartment, and her bed, but she stays by her side through the hard stuff (which is so much harder without a drink in her hand or a warm body underneath her). Through all the mistakes she has made, she can tell Susanna still believes in her, still trusts her to do the right thing.

For the first time in what feels like forever, she is brave. She faces Rose, and feels the sting of her anger at the betrayal. She watches the terror in Susanna's eyes, and she is _helpless_. She is brave, and Rose is dead, and Susanna is shot, and bravery and can go right the fuck to hell.

_

That first drink is such a relief. But the problem was never the first drink, it was the fifth, and the ninth, and the losing count because she just couldn't stop, not until nothing hurt anymore, and it never _ever_ completely stopped hurting.

She really _is_ grateful that Jane finds her the first time. _Maybe,_ this is one mistake, and she will stop herself.

But then she heads back to her room and sees how the sheets are still rumpled from Susanna. And she thinks _“you might as well just have shot her yourself,_ ” and heads back down to the bar.

For a half-second, she had actually believed in herself. It's hilarious, and she can't stop laughing, then her phone rings, and it's Jane again, and _ohshitwhathaveyoudonenowLuisa_.

Maybe she lies when she says she's calling her sponsor, but her addled brain remembers enough that Susanna is the only person who has a shot of not hating her right now, so she dials her number (from memory, natch).

_

Susanna's hands are soft and strong, fingers long and elegant. (Luisa thinks  she’d make a beautiful pianist, in the moments where she has lain beside her and imagined different worlds where they could be less broken and more interesting.) Her soft brown eyes command Luisa's gaze, and she manages to make what has so often been an indictment into a promise.

“ _You need to go to rehab. So that when you get out, when you are better, I can take you out_.”

Everything is wrong, and yet, Luisa smiles.

_ 

She wants to scream at Rafael, to give back as good as she gets, but she has never worn Anger well, and it won't help her right now to hurt anyone else.

“I understand, and I'm going to get help. I just thought you might want to know what's going on.”

(He doesn't visit her once, in four weeks.)  
_

Twenty-eight days isn't that long of a time really.

An average menstrual cycle.  
February, most years.

It's shorter than a _Grey’s Anatomy_ midseason hiatus for Pete’s sake- Luisa can make it through twenty eight days in rehab.

She's picked a different facility for this inpatient stay. After everything that had happened since her last residential visit, she had wanted a new start.

(“ _I don't want anyone to know me and how bad of a fuckup I am_ ,” she had actually said, but Susanna got the gist.)

The building is clean and stark. They have a library of self-help books, an organic vegan chef, yogis on staff, and biweekly group and individual therapy sessions. The man who tours her around the facility reminds her of her shaman, and Luisa feels safe (as safe as she could) here.

  
Visitors are allowed on Sunday's, after Luisa makes it through 10 days of treatment. She sees Susanna pencil a reminder in her planner (she's very old-school that way. Luisa likes the idea of being written-down for anyone to find, of having a permanent record of her existence in someone's plans.) They confiscate her phone and double check for flasks or bottles, and she brings her tote bag to her room for the next 28 days (or 60, or 90, depending on how hard it is to climb back up this time).

Susanna lingers in the doorway, unsure of where to put herself, hands jammed in her pockets.

“Thank you, for everything.”

“You deserve to be happy Luisa, and you deserve to be healthy.”

She can tell Susanna is wrestling with herself over whether or not to reach out.

 _What the hell_ , she thinks, before wrapping her arms around the taller blonde and squeezing all of her gratitude into the hug.

Susanna’s eyes are shiny, though she holds her voice without breaking.

“I'll see you next Sunday.”  
_

The first thing after Susanna leaves is a psychosocial assessment, followed by a wellness inventory. Because Luisa's relapse was relatively brief, she's not at risk for withdrawal, and they aren't medicating her. She's still pretty traumatized from her institutionalization, so that comes as a relief.

Luisa's therapist suggests using her intellectual curiosity as a way to learn about herself, instead of as an excuse for avoiding the hard work of emotional labor. She dives into a mess of books, and exercises, and writes in a journal for the first time since she was 13 years old.

She discovers:  
-over-sharing is just another way to avoid true vulnerability ( _sorry, Susanna_ ).

-her earliest experiences with drinking were a cry for attention from her aloof father. It took wrecking two cars and a lawsuit for him to pay any mind to her problem, but by then the reward for the behavior was established.

-Rose knew who she was the whole time and played her like a fool.

This one hurts the most, of course. But her therapist also reminds her that she is not foolish for loving her, that no one was responsible for Rose’s actions but Rose. Her peers in group tell stories of lovers they screwed over for drugs, of partners who kept them plied with booze so that they wouldn't have the power to leave.

_She is not alone._

Luisa doesn't talk about Susanna in group, yet, it seems like an invasion of privacy, but she does discuss her in private sessions. How she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to realize how much Luisa isn't worth the pain she's put her through. How she's afraid that she doesn't even remember how to be with another person beyond sex. How she doesn't even know who she is underneath her losses, but that Susanna seems to know, and likes her anyway.

“When you think of Susanna, do you want to take a drink?”

She pauses, imagining the way Susanna lights up whenever she's in the room. Beneath her own guilt and self-loathing, she meditates on Susanna, without all of her added-on projections.

“No. I want to stop drinking. I want to be what she thinks I can be.”  
_

Luisa hasn't done this much introspection in years, if ever. Her previous trips to rehab had been perfunctory, playing the part so that she could get back to the “real world.” (Emilio had spoiled her. A little.) But this _was_ the real world. It was certainly more real than duplicitous drug lords, and luxury hotels, and spray tans.

Her therapist had advised her to dedicate some time to thinking beyond rehab, now that they had unpacked much of her backstory. She thinks of Susanna's promise to take her out at the end of her stay, and while she loves the idea of parading around the Art district with her handsome detective, Luisa feels like she needs to do the courting this go around. See, she had seduced women countless times, but when it came to relationships, Luisa was pretty damn lazy.

Allison had proposed, Rose had insisted on keeping her sham marriage for criminal purposes, and Luisa had gone with the flow, always letting others dictate the course of her life. _Not this time_.

Susanna arrives right at 11:00 for visitation, carrying a cup holder. Black coffee for herself, and decaf Chai latte (extra wet) for Luisa. It's a gorgeous spring day, and they sit outside on a park bench sipping their beverages and looking at clouds. After over a week without texts, or calls, all the little threads which tether the modern world together, it takes a moment for them to find their feet.

“How's work?”

Susanna sighs.

  
“Busy.”

Her brow furrows, showing all the damage this case has wrought upon her.

  
“But I'm really glad I could make it out here.”

  
Her face softens, as she looks into Luisa's eyes for the first time all day, searching for… A change? A reassurance? Luisa isn't sure what or who she should be, honestly. She decides to just go for it, _screw the small talk._

“I've been thinking about what you said about going out-”

  
“-look, if it's too soon, or your feelings have changed, it's okay, I promise-”

  
(Susanna looks mortified. _Shit_.)

  
“-no, no, that's not what I meant at all! What I meant, is that, all things considered, I should be taking _you_ out. It's the least I can do, honestly.”

  
“Oh.”

  
Susanna blushes, and it is so cute that Luisa has to sit on her hands in order not to kiss her. ( _Embrace your vulnerability, Luisa,_ she hears her therapist warning.)

“I realized you know a lot more about me than I do about you. Can you tell me about your family?”

And Susanna regales her with tales about growing up in Alabama, of her mother and brother and the former stepfather who very nearly disowned her when she came out. She laughs and cries, and Luisa soaks in every word. She knows how much family means now, knows how important it is to listen.

Before they know it, it's four o’clock and they've walked the circumference of the grounds 10 times. The final bell rings, telling visitors to return their badges and say their goodbyes.

“Same time next week?”

Luisa knows her hopefulness is written all over her face.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

Susanna squeezes her hand as she stands to leave. It's a simple gesture that she's done many times before , but the intimacy shakes Luisa to her core.

( _Embrace your vulnerability, Luisa!_ )

 TO BE CONTINUED

 

 


	2. Checking Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luisa finishes treatment and prepares for life outside. Character development galore!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last rehab chapter, then THE DATE!

In kindergarten, Luisa had made her first best friend. Kelly Cruz wore jelly sandals and was the only other kid in her class who already knew how to read. They camped out in the library while Ms. Arnold discussed vowels with the others; Luisa inhaling science books while Kelly devoured the _Little House on the Prairie_ series. Then, her mother had ~~died~~  faked her own death, and Luisa became the girl who cried all the time, who could only stay for half-days and never wanted to play at recess anyway. Kelly was a sweet girl, but she was also six. They hadn't remained close.

When Raf was born, Luisa felt like she had a chance for a life-long best friend. He was her first patient, and seeing his infant smiles helped her decide she wanted to bring babies into the world. After Elena left, Luisa read Rafael bedtime stories and sang him lullabies every night. But the 7 years between them became an eon once Luisa got to high school. She quickly discovered that parties were the way to have friends, and everyone liked her a lot more when she was drinking. By the time she left home for college, she'd already formed a strong bond with Jose, Jim, and Jack.

Now here she was, damn near forty years old and without any real friends. She had drinking buddies, and one night stands, and at one point, colleagues, but practically no one in her life who didn't want anything more from her than herself.

(She wondered how Betty was doing.)  
_

Group that morning had focused on the social network of alcoholism, how everyone's your pal when you're buying this round. Luisa was beginning to get the hang of opening up (and not just word vomiting her drama), and she shared about meeting Rose.

Talking with Rose had been like the first human contact coming out of forty years in the wilderness. She had seemed so concerned, _interested_ , in Luisa. Luisa, who was always _Emilio’s Daughter_ , or _Rafael’s sister_ , or _Allison’s girlfriend_. With Rose, she was her own person, and she was loved for it. Despite the lies, and the violence, and the fundamentally false premise of everything about their relationship, she couldn't let go of that feeling of being _known_.

The kindness in the eyes of her peers was overwhelming, and she felt the tears prick at her eyes.

“ _It's okay to grieve for yourself_ ,” the therapist reminded her.   
_

Luisa decides to pursue more meaningful interactions beyond therapy and hustles to catch up with one of her group mates as they walk towards lunch. Rick is sunken-eyed and dark haired; a grizzled Robert Smith. He was a touring musician with a record deal on the table when playing gigs for beer turned into 3 drinks in order to even unlock his case and his band mates kicked him out. He's trying to rebuild his relationship to music along with sobriety.

(She remembers the old classical guitar her mother played when she was a baby, the one she left behind during the hurricane, that has lived untouched in her closet all these years, taken from move to move, gathering dust.)

“Have you ever given lessons?”

Rick smiles, like he knows something she doesn't.

“The first song I learned to play was for a girl. This for that tall blonde?”

She thinks a moment, about the idea of serenading Susanna.   
She remembers strains of her singing while Luisa lapsed in and out of drunken consciousness, and maybe, someday, she would like to repay that favor. But today, she wants something she can keep for herself.

( _It's not selfish to attend to your needs, Luisa_ )

“No, actually, it's for me.”  
_

Rick is incredibly patient, and she can see him light up as she grasps the finger positions and sounds a halfway decent D-chord. She couldn't even come up with a song to learn, so distant is her relationship to music, and he's suggested “Blowing in the Wind,” for its serene lyrics (“ _and it's easy as shit_.”)

After an hour they finally strum through a verse.

“I don't even _like_ this song,” she exhales, slumping forward in mental exhaustion.

(But they’re both smiling in pride.)  
_

Luisa's newfound friendships soften the blow when Susanna doesn't show up that Sunday. Instead, she is met with a bouquet of Sunflowers and Black-Eyed Susan's, and Susanna’s slanted scrawl.

****_Luisa,  
I got called into a crime scene but I don't want you to think I forgot about you.  
I hope these brighten your day as much as you brighten mine._

**_Xo,  
Susanna_ **

A month ago disappointment would have sent her to the bottle, or at least to moping without sharing her feelings with anyone else. But Luisa inhales the fresh scent of the symbols of adoration and encouragement (Susanna _would_ memorize floriography), and feels a swell in her chest at Susanna’s thoughtfulness.

(The good-natured ribbing from her peers puts a little pep in her step as well. She's always had a natural swagger, and it feels damn good to walk down the hall like _somebody_.)  
_

The routine of rehab is itself therapeutic, and Luisa knows she will have to work to find structure once she's out. Weekly AA meetings are a must, but she's not sure if Raf will let her return to working at the hotel. Hell, she's not sure if he'll ever speak to her again, but “ _lord grant her the serenity to accept things she cannot change._ ” If she and Susanna are going to really do this thing, she can't be a pity project.

“I mean, when I lost my license, I wasn't even drinking, so it was like, _what's the point?!_ ” She had recalled to her therapist.

“And now?” He had asked.

“Now… I think the point is that I have survived. It has been so so hard, but I have survived. And that has to mean _something_ , right? My parents are dead, Rose was murdered, but I'm still here, and there must be a reason.”

“What does that mean for you, looking at next week and going home?”

“I've got a lot to offer the world, and just because I struggle with addiction doesn't mean I can't help in other ways. I know I could probably manage financially without working, but for my sobriety and my wellness I need to do something productive, even if it's on a volunteer basis.”

“You're ready to give back to others?”

She nodded. “I needed to spend time really focused on myself to get clean, but now I want to shine my light outward.”  
_

Luisa feels like her smile might split her face in two when Susanna arrives for their last “rehab-date.” Susanna's gaze searches the lobby, before she catches Luisa's eye and breaks out into a beam of her own.

“Hey!” Her voice is warm honey, and she doesn't hesitate to a wrap Luisa into a hug. (She notices that it's two-armed.)

“No sling- congratulations!”

Susanna flexes her right biceps and grins sheepishly.

“Physical therapy’s a bitch but I'm only half-useless now.”

They stand awkwardly for a moment, both too distracted drinking the other in, before Luisa grabs Susanna's hand.

“Do you mind if I show you off?”  
_

Luisa introduces Susanna to Rick, and he teases her about her new identity as guitar virtuoso, despite her exaggerated _SHHHHHH_! intended to warn him into silence. Susanna merely cocks an eyebrow, as if to say “ _I want to hear more about this later._ ” Her group mates scattered around the lobby all wave and wolf-whistle, and complement Susanna on the flowers which still sit in the sunroom for all to enjoy.

They eventually retreat back outside, sprawled under a willow draped in Spanish Moss.

“Look who turned into Miss Congeniality,” Susanna smiles.

“Hey, life's too short not to connect with other people.”

Their eyes lock for a moment, fingers intertwined.

“So, how are you feeling about Friday?”

“Excited. Grateful. Nervous. I've got a big date to plan, you know?”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I really like this one, even though she's kind of a weirdo.”

“A weirdo? No one’s called me that since about third grade.”

“Children have a habit of speaking the truth, Susanna. It's okay, though, I like that she sends sunflowers instead of roses and knows how to catch catfish with her bare hands. If I ever got stranded on a desert island I'd want her with me.”

Susanna chuckles, looking at the sky.

“This week has been a _mess_. This _year_ has been a mess. But I'm really grateful I met you.”

(Luisa is beginning to understand gratitude. How it accepts and does not demand. How it appreciates what is, and doesn't seek what is not. How sometimes it feels a little like love. )

“I'm grateful I met you, too.” She matches Susanna's gaze toward the clouds, keeping their hands held.

“Now tell me more about these sexy cop adventures.”  
_

Luisa doesn't know what to expect on Friday when she packs up her things and signs her latest pledge to sobriety. She bids the staff and her peers farewell, taking time to hug Rick and thank him for finally teaching her some decent music (“Gracias a la Vida” felt particularly appropriate today). She searches for that familiar shock of blonde hair before her eyes fall upon… _Rafael_?

He walks quickly toward her, grabbing her tote, and helping her into his car. She's actually speechless for once.

“Look,” he says, starting the engine,”I know I was short with you earlier. I was hurt, and angry, and lashing out. I think we were both in a really bad place.”

“Well, I had a great time in there if you want a referral,” she deflects.

“I worked with Detective Barnett. On my mom’s case, my half-brother was involved as well.”

“Oh.”

“She might have mentioned you, in passing.”

“Mmmmmhmmmm.”

“Anyways, Petra had our twins, and Jane helped her every step of the way, and we had this beautiful, messy, unplanned family all together. And I realized, you needed to be there, too. We've all made mistakes, but family is family.”

(She is full-blown bawling now.)

“Would you like to meet your nieces?”

TO BE CONTINUED 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do y'all think Luisa is going to do for work when she gets out? (Right now I'm imagining her as the world's fiercest clinic escort.) I've got date night planned in my head, but as always, I'm open to to suggestions. <333


	3. Getting Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE DATE aka fluff fluff fluff fluff implied smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, @tinggg for the wonderful prompt! This has been such a joy to write that I cranked out the end all in one go (apologies for any errors :) ) 
> 
> If ya got prompts or feels hit up tha tumblr @blueblue-baby

The twins are _beautiful_. Sure, newborns all kind of look the same, but Luisa sees Rafael’s seriousness in Elsa’s furrowed brow and Petra's _I could not care less about you or your emotions_ in Anna’s insistence on sleeping throughout her visit.

Petra looks worn out, but peaceful. It suits her, motherhood.

“How are you feeling?” Luisa feels her once-familiar bedside manner return.

“Like I've been bludgeoned from the inside out,” Petra deadpans,  
“It's incredible.”

Her smile is genuine, free.

Luisa coos over the girls and expresses her utmost admiration to the happy parents (they haven't looked this relaxed together in 6 years- she'll have to process these developments with Raf later). She doesn't want to overstay her welcome, so she leaves the babies to rest and heads upstairs to her own apartment, texting Susanna as she walks.

_**Luisa Alver, 5:35 PM**  
Thank you._

_**Susanna Barnett, 5:36 PM**  
For what?_

_**Luisa Alver, 5:36 PM**  
You know. Seriously, you can't know how much this means to me._

The typing icon flashes, Susanna carefully crafting her response.

_**Susanna Barnett, 5:39 PM**  
I know how important family is._

(Luisa feels a pang of guilt at Rose’s actions, before reminding herself _you are not responsible for others’ behavior,_ repeated like a Jesus prayer.)

_**Luisa Alver, 5:42 PM**  
I'd like to properly make it up to you- are you still free on Sunday's?_

__**Susanna Barnett, 5:43 PM**  
It's a date :)  
_

Luisa and Raf used to fight over allocating various Solano properties for their romantic exploits. The yacht, the penthouse, the last-minute rooftop reservations for candle-lit dinners. Coupled with their genetic blessings, the perks of wealth made it incredibly easy to seal the deal on first dates.

Luisa briefly contemplates pulling out all the stops to woo Susanna this time around, but she knows that the eager detective would probably feel more uncomfortable than impressed by such a gesture.

She thinks back to their Sunday visits, to Susanna's stories, and tries to capture all the things that made her smile. A quick bout of googling and a shopping list later, and she has her plan.

_

She doesn't hear anything from Susanna that night or all day on Saturday, and Luisa surmises the detective is working overtime to ensure their day will be uninterrupted.

The thought that someone could see her at her worst and still be so damn thoughtful hasn't stopped being surprising. It's like finding a twenty dollar bill in the pocket of a pair of jeans, unexpected yet deserved.

(She has to remind herself of this part. _I am worthy of safety. I am worthy of kindness. I am worthy of love._ )

Luisa spends much of the day making calls and shopping. She can't remember the last time she didn't fly by the seat of her pants or delegate responsibilities. It feels good to plan, to construct, to dedicate her time and effort to another person.

She _really_ hopes it all comes together.  
_

She's woken with a text early Sunday morning.

_**Susanna Barnett, 6:32 AM**  
I'm guessing I'm meeting you at 11, tradition and all, but I'm afraid I don't know what to wear._

__**Luisa Alver, 6:45 AM**  
1)why are you awake?  
2)something casual enough you don't mind getting it a little dirty  
3) I'm picking you up at 11 sharp ;) chivalry and all

__**Susanna Barnett, 6:50 AM**  
1)physical therapy exercises don't do themselves. Figured you wouldn't appreciate me ignoring you in favor of bicep curls.   
2)so, flannel and jeans aka walking stereotype?  
3)goodness, me! you sure know how to flatter a lady, miss alver

(Okay, it's still way too early to flirt, but Luisa is grinning through tired eyes.)

__**Luisa Alver, 6:52 AM**  
1)how do you know i wouldn't want to watch?  
2)well you've already covered the power suit territory- gotta make sure you're the real deal  
3)You. Have. No. Idea.

_**Luisa Alver, 6:53 AM**  
See you soon, detective. Enjoy your workout._

She's too excited to sleep. It would be embarrassing, but Luisa has never really been in the business of feeling ashamed or sheepish when it comes to romance. (She's always had so many other better things to feel ashamed about.)   
_

Luisa might not be using a limo, but she did convince Raf to let her borrow his convertible, given that her own vehicle had yet to be replaced after the “accident.” It's a gorgeous spring Miami day, and she intends to take full advantage of being “out” on this date.

She's opted for a relatively conservative sundress, navy blue jersey that shows off her legs but leaves her cleavage to the imagination. Her hair is swept up into a messy bun that she may or may not have spent an inordinate amount of time crafting, in order to look _effortless_.

Susanna opens the door, true to her word, in a red checked button-down and worn jeans, paired with parchment Chuck Taylor's.

(She looks _deliciously_ good.)

The no-nonsense detective look definitely worked for Luisa, but there's a comfort and ease to her current ensemble that reads “ _let’s walk to the farmer’s market after spending all morning having sex,”_ or _“I just built you a new headboard out of reclaimed wood- wanna break it in?”_

( _Focus, Luisa._ )

Susanna clears her throat, and she realizes she hadn't heard her speak, so enthralled was she in those muscled forearms and that defined collarbone...

“I'm sorry?”

(Sweet, eager, kind Susanna has the gall to look a little _smug_.)

“I said, I usually don't like surprises but I'm trusting you on this one.”

“I guess I better not disappoint, then,” she winks.  
_

Susanna laughs at the car, but she breathes in deeply as they navigate towards their first destination, closing her eyes and soaking in the sun.

“You bust out this whip for all your dates?”

“Oh, no, this baby took three free last-minute babysitting nights. She don't come cheap.”

Susanna looks impressed (they'd discussed Luisa's aversion to actually caring for infants, despite the whole OB-GYN thing.)

“I'll make a point not to be annoyed if and when said nights occur, then.”

(There’s a promise within the offhand remark that lights a fire in Luisa's chest.)   
_

They pull up to a gray, nondescript cement building on the outskirts of town, and Luisa makes a show of leaping out of her seat so she can open the door for Susanna.

“If you were a man, I would eviscerate you right now,” she teases.

“I think we're both glad I'm not a man, Susanna.”

She opens the door for her, and the sound of tiny barks fills the air.

“You took me to the animal shelter?”

“It's a puppy play date!”

Susanna had waxed poetic about her childhood dog, and her brief stint with the K-9 unit. Animals were right below babies in Luisa's book, but seeing the way Susanna’s eyes lit up at the tiny mutt toddling toward her melted her heart a little bit.

(And her puppy talk was absolutely adorable.)

“Hey little guy! Aren't you handsome- do you know fetch yet?”

(Luisa had never seen such intense interest between two beings, it was like they immediately created their own little world.)

Susanna jolted from petting the little fluffball, realizing she had practically neglected Luisa.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry- I'm kind of ignoring you.”

“I like seeing this side of you, truth be told I don't know which is cuter, you or the puppy.”

“He has a name, and it is Rufus. Come say hi.”

And God love her, she got on her knees on the cold tile floor and proceeded to be licked and snuggled by a 6 pound monster.

(It was more fun than she thought it would be.)

Poor little Rufus was soon wore out from all the excitement and affection, and he retired to his puppy bed.

They got off the floor and stretched and Luisa only ogled the expanse of Susanna's revealed hips for 5 seconds this time.   
_

“Thank you,” Susanna exhales as they return to the car.

Then she reaches across to plant a chaste kiss on Luisa's cheek.

(She definitely blushes.)

“Are you hungry? I thought we could grab lunch and people watch.”

They head to the art district and Luisa buys them sandwiches and fried plantains while Susanna stakes out a spot on a bench.

It's nice, to be out, to be open.

They're quiet as they eat, although Luisa can't help a small moan that escapes when she digs into her chips. Susanna's cheeks redden, and she's relieved to know she's still got an effect on the blonde.

“My mother always treated me to street food when dad was away on business. He thought it was beneath us. But no one is too good for fried plantains.”

Susanna sighs, dreamily,  
“I think fried comfort food is a cultural constant around the world. It's fundamental to the human condition.”

They take a walk after eating, and their hands somehow end up intertwined, in that way where no one instigates contact, but magnetism takes its hold. Luisa revels in sharing an experience that doesn't involve criminal activity, for once (although that old man’s banana hammock sure comes close.)

As the sun sinks in the sky, Luisa steers them back to the car, and their final destination.  
_

Luisa had to admit, she was proud of her restraint in keeping the day thus far lowkey and unextravagant. This might be pushing that limit a little, though.

She brings them behind the Marbella, to the most secluded swath of private beach, cordoned off just for them. (A girl has to pull a few strings, every now and then.)

Two reclined beach chairs rest in front of a campfire and a film projector. Susanna looks at her incredulously.

“I would have been fine watching Netflix on your couch, you know.”

“I know, but you mentioned that you love the beach but hate sunburns, and this way we get the full Miami-in-a-day experience.”

Luisa reaches over to a thermos and pours them each a cup of coffee.

“I guess wine is more traditional for this kind of thing, but…”

“-it's perfect.”

She queues the film, and Jessica Tandy’s mellifluous voice echoes behind them.

“You _**didn't**_ ,” Susanna practically squeals.

“Well, I've never seen it, and you seem to be convinced that _Fried Green Tomatoes_ is the greatest movie ever made, so-”

Susanna cuts her off with a firm kiss.

_Fuck, she's missed that._

Before Luisa has the chance to deepen it, Susanna pulls away.

“This movie is sacred to me- no funny business, ya hear me?”

There's a smile in her tone, but her eyes are deadly serious.  
_

Honestly, Luisa was crying too much to try anything anyway. ( _Why didn't she bring some damn tissues?_ )

“So?” Susanna looks at her expectantly, like she's asking her opinion of her heretofore unknown child.

“It was good!”

“Just good?!”

“I like Ruth. She reminds me of you.”

(Luisa was always impetuous Idgie, heart on her sleeve, consequences be damned. So what if the gender presentation didn't match.)

Susanna rolls her eyes and looked up at the stars as Luisa dims the screen.

“Luisa, I think this is the best date I've ever been on, and I've seen Dolly Parton twice.”

“Hmmm does that mean it's over?”

“Well, the movie’s finished, so I guess we could get back to that funny-”

Luisa doesn't let her finish before she's straddling Susanna's lap, digging her toes into the sand as she caresses her face and brings their lips to meet. ( ** _Finally_**.) The crackle of the fire, and warmth of Susanna's skin, and the taste of coffee on her tongue marry to forge a memory she hopes she never forgets.

Now, without Rose lurking in the back of her mind, it's easy to get lost in the feeling of Susanna. She is gentle, yet determined, gripping Luisa's biceps as she brings her head down to kiss Susanna's pale neck.   
Luisa's skirt is riding up, and they're beginning to rock against each other, and it's not so much a sense of propriety as a desire for space (for access to every inch of Susanna) that prompts Luisa to pull away.

“My place is just upstairs.”

Susanna looks dazed and confused for a moment, and it gives Luisa pause.

“-I mean, I guess this is a first date, and maybe you have rules about that kind of thing now that we’re _dating_ and not just sleeping together-”

Susanna grabs her hand, gently.

“Luisa, I have waited over a month for this night. Do you have any idea how much I've thought of you? _Remembered_ you?”

Her eyes are practically black in the moonlight.

“So, that's a yes?”

(She douses the campfire but leaves the chairs and projector for the morning. It would be rude to leave her date now.)  
_

Luisa hasn't shared a bed since her (failed) marriage, and even then, rarely. She wakes to find Susanna curled into her front, the taller woman insistent on being little spoon.

Luisa would go through a million rehabs for a reward like last night.

Where their first tryst had been hurried and marred by its secrecy, this time they had paced themselves, memorizing the other’s reactions for future reference.

(Susanna liked having her hair pulled, and left a few nail marks down Luisa's back. Afterwards, she was _all_ cuddles.)

She decides to make breakfast, and sets to scrambling eggs while the coffee percolates. Susanna wanders in the kitchen with bed head and sleepy eyes as soon as the smell reaches her nose. She wears her flannel from the day before, and nothing else.

(Luisa wanted to _marry_ that shirt.)

Luisa remembers it is, in fact Monday, and her eyes bug out.

“Don't you have work?”

Susanna looks momentarily confused, and then blushes crimson.

“I may have planned on having today off… For reasons.”

Luisa switches off the stove and abandones her post, dragging Susanna back with her towards the bedroom.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

THE END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've nauseated myself a little bit, but damn doesn't it feel good to see a happy Luisa? Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> One of the books I lowkey referenced was Daring Greatly, by Brene Brown, PhD , LCSW. It's a great read! Her perspectives on vulnerability and the ways in which we share with others are actually remarkably helpful when writing a love story :)


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